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The room is thick with tension, not just from the soldier's growing excitement, but also from the knowledge that he could be interrupted at any moment. Each stroke is a dance with danger, each breath a whispered challenge to the sanctity of his uniform. His cock, now fully erect, tents his pants, demanding release. He unbuttons his shirt, exposing his chiseled chest, the tattoos there a stark contrast to the neat rows of medals. His hand moves faster, his grip tighter, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. His body tenses, his abs contracting as he nears the edge, the uniform that once represented duty now a symbol of his forbidden pleasure.